


Slaughter your Darlings

by Nine_Stoic_Crayolas



Category: Naruto
Genre: A bunch of things that will be explained at some point, BAMF Haruno Sakura, Changelings, Fae and Fairies, Haruno Sakura-centric, Multi, Nohara Rin is a Good Sister, Obito loves Rin, Original Character(s), Prophecies, Protective Hatake Kakashi, Protective Obito, Protective Rin, Sakura is fairy, Sakura is made of bitter sweetness, Sub-cultures, Team Fluff, The Taken - Freeform, The Uchiha are CONFUSED, There will be deaths ish, later on, lots of prophecies, yet slightly turned on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2019-01-16 02:59:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12334113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nine_Stoic_Crayolas/pseuds/Nine_Stoic_Crayolas
Summary: Sakura knows the woods like the back of her hand. She knows the little critters that scamper about, watching her steps with wary eyes, she knows how the creatures of the night lumber through the low branches and snuffle when she gets too close. But, she doesn't know the Untouched.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first time posting something on AO3! My fanfiction account is: Gh0stGrl for more fics!  
> Hope you all enjoy and thank you for reading,  
> \- Stoic Crayolas

 

The forest is green when Sakura steps into it. Green like her eyes and those of her mother. She cannot afford to lose time. The words of her clansmen are ringing in her ears and she remembers that this is an _honor_ , that what she has been chosen for is what many in her clan dream of and she sets her shoulders and tightens her jaw.

She would do this.

And she would _win_.

Her steps are quiet and quick as she makes her way down the winding streams and the slippery moss. Looking at the swaying leaves, Sakura knows that she is much closer to the Untouched lands than her cousins, but still, she knows that many of her clansmen have lost the chance to be Acknowledged for not being careful.

Lifting a slim pale hand to her face, Sakura makes sure her bright hair is hidden underneath the thin hood of otterskin coat and that the purple marks of her clan are shadowed under the various layers of dirt she has dusted over herself. Looking over herself one last time, Sakura tugs at the swathes of leather tunic and the corded braids that run up all the way to her thighs, making sure that the skin showing is appropriately covered with grass stains, dirt and various sticks.

Sakura makes no noise as she inspects the natural pool that the shallow river has led her to. Bright eyes track the way that the grass falls and how the water rippled with natural movement—no animals have been in the pool and as she makes her way around the small body of water, she notices that there are no fresh tracks either.

Doe-eyes flick upwards towards the gray sky and Sakura weighs the possibility of a lightning storm by sniffing the air. Encouraged by the fact that she smells none of the gravity-defying static that usually rolls around right before a bad one, she slips into the water, her hand making no noise as she fastens the bone-pick her mother gave her for her Five-Ten Life Day to her long braid, before bringing it back to press against her head.

The water barely ripples as Sakura’s bare feet wade in and then push off lightly, her body sinking into the shallows with little effort. The water is cold and Sakura manages to repress a wince—her mother’s promises of warm rice milk and steaming elk soup are sounding all the more tempting—as her skin tightens and goosebumps appear on the bare parts of her legs. She mourns the loss of the dirt carefully concealing her pale legs but she knows that she can do nothing about it. Sakura resigns herself to staying in the shadows of the pool and reaches down to tug on some river-plants to twist around her upper thighs and calves.

Their squishy sliminess makes Sakura shudder in revulsion but she grits her teeth and remembers her objective and that many in the clan would _kill_ for the opportunity to get where she was now.

Especially the females.

Before she had left, her mother had expressed the full extent of the honor she was being granted and had made _sure_ that Sakura knew the fate of the females who had failed before her.

Only one had ever escaped their clan, a quick little thing that Sakura used to play with—the elder’s daughter, Rin.

Eyeing her surroundings carefully, Sakura knows cannot afford to be caught because of the unfortunate hair color she has—the only way she will win against her dark-haired, dark-eyed cousins is if she utilizes all of the advantages that come with her slim frame and ability to blend into the shadows seamlessly.

Once her paranoid urges are satisfied and that her cousins are nowhere near her, Sakura takes in a deep breath and ducks her head underneath the freezing water. She doesn’t let the shock of the cold settle and forces herself to move into the shade of the pool. Her hands still, searching the water for any current movement and when she feels the light tugging on her right, Sakura smiles minutely and kicks back heading straight for it.

She passes a school of fresh-water minnows and some river-algae before she dives deeper and finally finds what she needs. There: tucked under the protruding rock at the edge of the river bed, a faint glow is flickering. Partially concealed from the shadows and the swishing of the fish, it would be difficult for anyone other than Sakura to notice it—but she has trained and her eyes are sharper than any other in her clan—including the Clan Head’s boy, Kazuki.

Eyes gleaming with pride, Sakura undulates her body, the otterskin coat allowing her to glide under the water faster, easier, the hood stuck to her cheeks. She is grateful that her clothes are thin and very easy to navigate in; especially the light leather tunic that swishes at her knees and clings to her body.

The Moon-plant is flowering—the unusual gold flowers moving gently – nestled between two jagged rocks. The thick leaves that trap the flowers are a vibrant green which tells Sakura that the plant is ripe and the flowers and stems can be picked.

Moving quickly but cautiously, Sakura propels herself deeper, her hands stretching towards the flowers, her nails already sharpening into the claws needed to cut them.

Just as her claws snip off the tenth and final flower, a shadow passes over her.

Sakura stiffens and rapidly shoves the flowers into her pouch, making sure that they are in the cushioned compartment that she knows will keep them safe.

Maybe it is one of her clansmen—Sakura swallows dryly at the thought—that has caught up with her?

Laughter echoes above and Sakura immediately knows that she has ventured too far away from her clan lands and that this laughter was not one of her cousins.

The only conclusion that Sakura is able to draw is that this is someone from the Untouched Lands. The Untouched Lands are taboo—no one knows what is beyond the edges of the Green Forest—and it is dangerous for one of them to be away from their kinsmen too long.

Sakura had always recalled her Mother’s tales of clansmen that went insane away from their people and returned, bloody, eyes open and shifting, claws unsheathed and mouths gaping.

The loud stomping above her makes her stiffen further and a lick of pure fear travels up her spine. She wants to wait out the intruders but she knows that she was running out of air—she only has a small time-slot for her regenerative abilities to create gills—and it was rapidly decreasing.

Sakura moves closer to the surface, her bone-pick keeping her hair from spreading out in the water, and the hood of the otterskin coat keeping her purple marks covered.

Suddenly a loud guffaw breaks the silence once more and Sakura’s body stiffens with even more tension. A pale, pale hand—not one of clansmen for _sure_ then because they were all dark—breaks the surface of the water and cups the liquid, bringing it back up and out of the pool.

The thought of an Untouched Clansmen finding her makes her eyes go wide with fear and her skin turn pale and sweaty.

She doesn’t know what to do. This was only supposed to be a race, a practice followed by generations, to get to the Moon Flower—there were no rules when facing the Untouched, apart from attempting to leave in stealth.

Sakura does not know if she is going to be able to do it.

A couple more chuckles and giggling screeches and then pale feet break the surface, resting just above Sakura’s head.

Her eyes widen at the realization that this means she doesn’t have any time to spare—her body is getting ready to resurface—and Sakura curses herself for not spending more time on the banks of the Talwaith River near her Mother’s home, practicing her breathing.

A pinching feeling in her chest drags Sakura away from her cursing and she flips over in the water, not noticing that in her panic, she has accidentally created a ripple. She lets her body be taken by the current, her hair loosening against the bone-pick and she’s about to reach the edges of the pool when someone jumps in.

The explosion of water and bubbles is massive and Sakura moves quickly, slithering away as fast as possible before they can see her. Just as she’s about to dive even further—biting back against the pain of no air and the suffocating water around her—a loose strand of pink falls into her face.

Instantly, the blood drains out of Sakura’s face as she realizes that with the force of the person jumping in, the bone-pick has fallen loose and settled in the silt at the bottom of the pool.

Panicking and hearing the loud exclamations of surprise, she maneuvers her body so that she is closer to the shadows. 

But she is too late, because her fast movements have been noticed and as Sakura turns to find a boy (man?) staring at her.

He is pale with gray eyes and a gaping mouth. His black hair swishes around him and Sakura knows that he is shocked to see someone like her—a pink-haired girl with apple green eyes—swimming so agilely in the water.

The first thing Sakura notices about him are his clothes—they are different and _much_ stranger— He is wearing dark short tunic pants and a loose shift and she can see a strange red circle with something inside it at the collar. They are thicker and retain more water. Something like the wool of sheep but it smells more _static_ like lightning has run through it and she can smell it even in the water.

A garbled mess of noises come out of his mouth and then Sakura’s time is up and she heaves herself up to the surface, lightning quick and bursts through the water, mouth gaping and taking heaving breaths.

Her hair is stuck to her face and her eyes are wide as she gazes at the gray sky. Slowly, she pats her pouch and is reassured when the soft pressure of the flowers is returned.

So she has not lost them, _good._

She takes a minute, a second really, to get rid of her dizzy head and her short breaths and then she takes a quick look around her—there are ten more of the people like the boy; all pale, staring and dark—and lurches towards the edge of the pool.

Her hands slip against the wet moss and her bare toes grasp the mud as she slithers onto firm land and she takes off like a shot.

The men around her start with her velocity and she narrowly avoids the whizzing of an arrow as she ducks behind a thick-trunked tree. She can hear their yells to rally themselves and then the faint splashing of water which means the boy who saw her is also chasing after her.

Her feet make no sound as she ducks and weaves through the thick undergrowth. Sakura makes sure that she isn’t leading them towards her Clan but visibly starts when she sees Chiko, one of her dark-eyed cousins and her Mother’s son's child.

Shocked dark eyes narrow on hers and Sakura catches a hold of the blow that will slow her down. Her cousin’s fingers tighten on hers and Sakura is sure that she will get a telling off but she manages to cut her off when she hears the harsh shouts of the men following her.

Wide eyed in panic, Sakura makes her choice.

“Chiko! Run! Make sure they don’t see you—they’re Untouched.” Sakura yells and Chiko bolts away, returning towards their clan quickly.

And when Sakura hears the familiar bird-whistle that she has grown up with, she knows that Chiko will get the rest home safe.

Her breath is lagging by the time she hits the other side of the forest. She is slowing down now; the panic of the hunt and the breathlessness plaguing her from her underwater stint is catching up and she curses once again, the fact that her Clan only teaches the males proper fighting styles and exercise regimens.

Snapping of branches and leaves are behind her and Sakura propels her body forward, knowing that if she truly gave it her all, they would not be able to catch her.

Suddenly, a hand swipes to the left of her vision and Sakura pales at the sight of the colorless Untouched (they have skin so similar to hers) that saw her in the water.

The boy is sweating, obviously hard pressed in following her and Sakura is minutely proud that she has managed to tire out a male such as himself—she knows that she is one of the fastest in her Clan and she has practiced and made _sure_ she is by the time the Mating season rolls by—and her fist flies towards his face.

A surprised expression appears on the pale Untouched and he moves at the last minute, jerking away at her hurtling hand.

“Stop!” He shouts and Sakura is surprised to find that, even with his heavy and strange accent, she can understand him.

Green eyes narrow in concentration and she’s about to hightail it out of there using the trees when a body slams into her side.

The air is knocked out of Sakura’s lungs and she is brought down by a hard body, an elbow stuck in the side of her ribs.

“Got her.” A low voice growls out near her ear.

Sakura is furious at herself for not going any faster and she swings back, landing another hit on the man blocking her when a sharp pain erupts just below her ear. A breathless scream escapes her and her body twitches with the electricity that is running through her veins.

 Then she is out and her breath lodges itself into her lungs, her eyes fluttering shut with the sound of shouts drowning in her ears. 


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She wakes up. Something is wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right! Of course, I'm going to continue this story. I just had a little bit of writer's block. Anyways, enjoy and tell me your thoughts! Thank you for reading :)

Deep in the night, a dark-haired boy returned, panting. 

Black eyes wide and crazed searched for a familiar face. 

“Chika—“

“—He is the last—“

“—where is the girl?—“

Gray eyes appeared in the mass of black and the boy sprinted forward, his knees trembling as he stumbled through the broken paths and winding plants. 

“They took her.” He gasped out through bloodied breaths and terror. “They have her.” 

Murderous rage seeped through aristocratic features and the woman’s eyes sharpened into molten fury. Fangs peeked from ruby red lips and the clansmen stood back as their witch transformed into her true form. 

Her claws curled into fists and their noses picked up the scent of coppery iron blood and bloodlust. 

“The prophecy has come true then.” The woman’s words were clipped and her fangs flashed in the moonlight as she spoke. 

Chika’s gasps subsided and finally, after days of running and hiding in the overgrown forests, he slumped, body resting on the warm ground, exhausted. Another woman made quick steps to retrieve him, hauling him over her shoulder, taking him to the healer’s tent. 

Her eyes trailed over the elders and something akin to burning, crazed rage overtook her beautiful face. 

“We will pay for your mistake.” She hissed, turning on her heel and disappearing into the night. 

~

Sakura wakes up gasping, her hand pressing against her heart, thumping rapidly in her chest. Her hair is matted, stuck to the sweat from her cheek and her eyes blink blearily, trying to absorb something from her surroundings. 

It is too-dark, she realizes, as she tries and fails to identify something in the emptiness. 

Her fingers trail to the burning she felt just before she passed out and she sucks in a surprised breath at the ridges that she finds there. 

Just what have they done to her? 

And suddenly, all those stories that Mother told her—how the Untouched warble and gasp, trying to find the words in their sickly minds, but failing as they sink into untreatable madness—came rushing to the surface.

Fear made her pupils dilate, her breathing go faster and her fingers begin to tremble. 

Just what, she thinks, her mind scrambling to find some sort of explanation as to why they have taken her, will they do to me? 

Her panic burns in her chest as she presses her hands against the walls and tries to find some sort of—balance? Direction?—anything. The ground feels cold, something that takes Sakura by surprise. The ground—the earth—has always been warm for Sakura. She is used to the crumbly dirt beneath her fingers and toes, used to the way the dead leaves and grass curled around her feet—she does not know what this—this coldness is and it bothers her. 

Focus, she wills herself, focus and you will find the way. 

She concentrates her mind, scatters the panicked thoughts that try to take over her rational mind and breathes in deep, crossing her legs underneath her like Mother taught her to. 

Smell. 

Something acrid and damp, not unusual in forests, but as she inhales deeper, she comes across something a little like blood, too much iron but none of the tangy scent that permeates the air when someone is wounded. It confuses her, but she immediately knows that she has to get out of here and—she might not have long.   
Hearing. 

She can hear a drip, drip, drop in the background, telling her that she could be underground. The caves her tribe frequented often had underground rivers and pools of water. She considers it as a point of escape. Every river leads to the sea, her mother would say. Her brow furrows as she sets her shoulders and stretches her senses further. There is a slam of something off in the distance and Sakura jumps when she hears footsteps. 

They are coming closer, she thought a little frantically, we must finish. 

Eyesight was useless—something that bothered Sakura greatly, because she had always had keen eyes, especially in the dark. She took another deep breath, ignoring how the echo of steps against the coldness taunted her nerves. 

Touch.

The ground—the coldness—was freezing, reminding Sakura of the year that had the greatest pines turning to icicles and the ground hardening so much that they could barely toil the earth. Sakura knew she was in some sort of contraption—there were walls around her, closing her in, making sure she couldn’t escape. The grooves on the wall confused her—she had only ever lived in structures made of the earth: otterskin, moleskin, deerskin…to have something so cool, so rigid, so lifeless around her was suffocating. 

Is this, she wonders, why the Untouched go so insane? 

Taking another deep breath, she fought past the feeling of suffocation and coldness and continued to concentrate. 

You will find the way. 

Taste.

Bringing a hand to her mouth she licked her fingers. Something similar to chalky dust coated her tongue and Sakura coughed, once, twice until the overwhelming   
feeling of wrongness overtook her body and had her shuddering in fear. 

There was something wrong, something stifling and sick with this place. Her people had always been a tribe of nature and here, sitting in this—this enclosure—made Sakura want to retch. 

The ground was cold, there was no nature, no light and it burned her. Her breathing quickened and her claws began to bleed through her nailbeds, the transformation to her natural form becoming unbearably painful. Fangs burst through the roof of her mouth and Sakura threw her head back and screamed soundlessly. 

The taste of this place made me change back, she thought hysterically, nothing like this has ever happened before!

(And visions of her mother’s long black hair, twisted into a braid with serious gray eyes came back to her—“Darling daughter. You are my pride and joy, but know that if you ever venture into the Untouched lands,” her mother’s eyes hardened and her face turned to stone, “I will kill you myself. I will not let you be reduced to ash.”) 

“Mother,” Sakura cried out, tears mixing with the sweat on her cheeks, “Forgive me!” 

Changing back had never been so agonising before—never had she been reduced to panting on the ground, her body arching and claws grasping and clutching the floor listlessly. 

Focus, she willed herself through the pain of her bones stretching under her skin and her muscles tightening with the shockwaves of pain echoing through her body, you will get through this.

Focus. You will find the way. 

~ 

The guard that had come to check on her stood outside, the slot in the cell door letting his eyes rove over her writhing form. His dark gray eyes traced her arching spine and how her mouth formed pained cries as she contorted. He watched as her eyes flashed green and then a silver so bright it shone in the darkness of the cell. He heard her cry out to her mother and a frown curved his lips. 

'Something is amiss. Uchiha-sama will not be pleased.'

“Girl.” His voice was husky, as he called out to the girl— animal? Creature?—on the cool tiles. “Stop that.” 

Her body twitched once, then again and then an agonizing scream ripped out of her as her spine arched once more and the silver that had tried to bleed through the apple green bloomed once more. 

He shifted backwards as the rounded ears turned pointed and her dull, human teeth sharpened into chiseled fangs. His hands trembled as she drew herself up onto her hind legs, her eyes turning feral and primal. 

She growled something out, her lips curling around the foreign sounds and he tried very hard not to shift further back. He had a feeling that this creature would curl those luscious lips into a primal grin, eyes burning molten, and bound forward. 

“Creature.” He managed to get out through teeth gritted with fear. “Enough. Stop this.” 

The creature—her fangs and molten eyes no longer made her look like a girl—snarled at him and the guard ignored the panic that ran through his veins. Rising, her hair, a dull magenta in the dull light of the lamp, fell, unbound and flowing to the back of her knees. Her eyes flashed once more and the guard found himself swallowing dryly. 

“Let me out.” Her voice was garbled and broken, yet still sounding lyrical as she stalked towards the door. “Let me out!”

Turning at the sound of her rage, the guard streaked down the corridor and ran for her captors. His heart only beat faster as he heard the primal screams of frustration and rage following him as his feet pounded against the tiles.


End file.
